It has been a year since I blogged about driving tips, and proper driving etiquette hasn’t improved. I’ve taken some of my valuable time to compile this list, a bible if you will, of driving rules so you won’t end up driving like a damn fool. You’re welcome!
Don’t drive in the fast lane unless you intend to drive fast: If you can’t muster up the courage to speed in the fast lane, then stay the fuck out of it. That lane is reserved for those of us that are willing to risk life and limb to get to our destination 3 minutes sooner than we would have by going the speed limit.
Motorcycle riders need to watch out for cars and trucks, not the other way around: Motorcycle riders are often the most dangerous people on the road. They’re hard to see and they like to showboat. They swerve in and out of traffic like they need to prove to you that their motorcycles will go places that your car won’t. I do my best to watch out for them, but they really should be watching for me, and the other people who prefer 4 wheels. If you hit me on your Fat Boy Harley, I’m sure I’ll be fine physically. You, on the other hand, will probably be dead.
Where the fuck are you turning? If you change lanes on the highway, don’t forget to turn off your blinker. Driving for 10 miles with your left or right blinker on is confusing as hell to everyone behind you. Plus it agitates people. Agitated people are more likely to run you off the road and cave your head in with a tire iron.
Your foot is not faster than a radar gun: If you spot a cop with a radar gun out, don’t mash your brakes, it’s already too late, the cop knows your speeding. The only sensible option at that point is to drive by with your middle finger up.
Don’t tailgate speeders: What exactly are you trying to achieve by tailgating? Nothing good will come from it. It’s kind of like a knife fight. Nobody really wins a knife fight. Instead, you should blow your horn and flail your arms wildly, maybe pump the trusty old middle finger up and down a couple of times. This will get the message across and eventually the slow poke will let you by. They also may run you off the road.
Follow these rules and you’ll have a nice peaceful drive.
Stay safe out there!
My chihuahua puppy has yet to earn a single dollar for this family, despite me constantly badgering her. “You’re not here to just eat, sleep, and shit!” I tell her, She never responds. But she does do chores, which I blogged about here. She’s picked up a couple more.
- She eats rotten tomatoes out of the garden. Not just the tomatoes on the ground, she’ll eat the smushy dead ones right off of the vine. She loves them.
- If you’ve ever seen an industrial paper shredder you know that they don’t mess around, neither does Lulu. She shreds paper with brutal efficiency. Newspapers, coupons, my son’s schoolwork, even bills are no match for this pup.
- She’s taken to being my personal alarm clock. From her cage, she’ll howl and bark until I wake up. Oh no, don’t think she wakes me at a specific time, it’s completely random. It’s usually sometime between 1am and 6am.
If she keeps this up, I’m going to have to start paying her.
Butt Can Fires: The smokers at my work are either too stupid or too lazy to throw their trash in the garbage can, so they throw it in the metal butt cans designed for burning cigarettes. Then they throw their burning cigarettes on top of the trash. Then the butt can catches on fire. Then one of the smokers will yell— “We’ve got a fire.” Then someone springs into action and runs inside, fills a mop bucket with water, runs back outside and extinguishes the fire. Then everyone cheers. This happens routinely.
Puppy Time: Chihuahua puppies have no concept of time. I say this because it’s currently 3:54am and I can’t sleep. I’m sitting in my recliner with the laptop out typing away. Lulu is running around the house like she’s on crystal meth. Now that I think about it, I never see that dog sleep. Sure she’ll conk out on your lap for a bit, but I mean really sleep. Maybe she really is on meth! I can picture it now, little Lulu out roaming the streets, doing dirty things for her next fix. Note to self: Look into doggie rehab clinics.
The Kim Kardashian robbery: For about two days the Kim K robbery was all the talk. Masked men dressed as police officers tied her up and robbed her. She allegedly lost upwards of 10 million dollars worth of jewelry to these rascals. Why should you care?
Celebrity endorsements: I listen to NPR daily and I’m usually interested in the subject matter— then today happened.
The whole ride home from work was the celebrity endorsement show. Lebron endorsed Hillary, Dennis Rodman backed Trump. Oh, Steph Curry threw his support behind Hillary while Tim Tebow threw his hat in the ring for Trump. Can anyone tell me why I’m supposed to care about this? Nevermind, I just remembered that I don’t give a fuck.
Clowns: I wanted to care about this one. I really tried. I conjured up images of mischievous clowns raising hell in my neighborhood. I just couldn’t force myself to care.
In case you missed it, there are adults out there dressing up like clowns and scaring the shit out of other adults. Grow the fuck up people! They’re just dumbasses dressed like clowns, get over it. I mean Halloween is right around the corner, how are you going to handle that?
PS: I know some of these clowns have committed crimes, but that shouldn’t matter. If someone tries to lure your kid into a vehicle, whether dressed as a clown or in a cardigan, you should beat their ass, or call the cops. Maybe beat their ass and then call the cops. Your choice.
Sometimes a headline just grabs you up and demands to be read. I stumbled across this gem and couldn’t pass it up.
Damn robots! Thankfully the child lived.
Mall Robot Attacks Child
Acronyms: I work for a big corporation, well, a medium-sized company that is a cog in the corporate machine. On the off chance that some corporate bigwig that I don’t know, or give a shit about, stumbles upon this, I’ll leave the corporation unnamed.
Since I now work in the office and am privy to all the corporate emails, I’ve noticed one thing that is alarming— they use a fuck ton of acronyms. I mean a lot! CDRs and CMSs… What the fuck is an AIDA? Nevermind, I don’t give a fuck. I spend an hour each day trying to decode this shit. I mean come on, I’m not Robert Langdon.
Dog Shit: I’ve mentioned in a previous blog that my chihuahua puppy named Lulu is a shit monster, well, she’s a turd burglar as well. Don’t google “turd burglar.” Trust me on this.
By turd burglar I mean she runs behind my rat terrier and snips at the terriers’s ass while she’s trying to poop. This causes my terrier to try to run and poop at the same time. I don’t know what she’s doing, maybe she’s upset because the rat terrier is pooping outside and not on the carpet like she does.
Patience: At least once a month my wife tells me I’m impatient. I swerve around slow movers on the freeway, walk at a pace that could be considered a run, and huff and puff when I’m in line behind someone that is paying for their groceries with a check. Come on people, it’s 2016, who the fuck uses checks at the grocery store?
You’re god damned right I’m impatient. Time is the most important thing we have. I want to maximize my time doing shit that I want to do, not driving 5mph under the speed limit and watching people fumble with their checkbooks.
Come on people, get your shit together, you’re really fucking up my free time!
I work with a man who feels compelled to talk to me while I’m Peeing. He rarely says anything useful, as a matter of fact, he never does. Sometimes he just talks about peeing.
I work with 500 people and he’s just another face that I don’t know. I started off by calling him the urinal man. After some deep reflection, and some careful consideration for the urinal man’s feelings, I decided to call him Billy. I figured he’d like it better.
I always seem to run into Billy, it makes me wonder just how much time he’s spending in the restroom. I usually have to interact with him daily; this morning was no different. Here’s how it went….
Billy the urinal man: Peeing already?
Billy the urinal man: What, you have too much coffee?
Me: I’m just peeing (Said in a shitty tone)
The divider between the urinals is so low that you can see the skull of the person next to you. When I’m unfortunate enough to end up next to Billy, he talks to me while staring at the side of my head. I look forward and pee. I don’t know if he’s trying to make eye contact, but all he does is make me feel weird.
I’ve made up my mind. Next time Billy speaks to me I’m going to confront him and ask him his name. I’m also going to ask him why he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut while he’s peeing. Feelings may be hurt, but I guarantee I will be able to pee in peace when it’s over.